


Duty Calls

by Noctuarie



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, michael the best adopted son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-18
Packaged: 2021-03-28 01:00:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30131577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noctuarie/pseuds/Noctuarie
Summary: Ranboo and Tubbo have been living in their mansion with their son, Michael, for a long time now. But they've gotten too comfortable in the safety of their home, and trouble is right around the corner. A kind of trouble they were never prepared for.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 33





	Duty Calls

**Author's Note:**

> Angsty times for the future life of Ranboo, Tubbo, and Michael. Very short, but hopefully enjoyable nonetheless.

Michael had never been the crying type. 

Since the day Tubbo and Ranboo had taken him from the Nether, he had been nothing but a joy in their lives. Even if he did have an extended stay in their attic, it had been worth it to give their son a better life. To provide him with something more than he could ever get in his homeland. Now, he thrived in their mansion in Snowchester. A mansion that Foolish had carefully built, and was now lovingly taken care of by the couple. Michael had never put up much of a fight for the whole process- he simply admired the artwork of them together as a family, and spent his time running around as any good child would.

Ranboo had always considered them lucky. If Michael ever ran into a problem, the child piglin had no way to voice it, and neither of them were experienced enough as parents to be able to tell if something was wrong. So him being in perfect behavior all the time was certainly lucky, a blessing of the founding of their family. Tubbo had vowed never to contact any of the other father figures on the server about their parenting techniques- not that Phil or others didn't approve, but Tubbo was hesitant to ask for advice after his own childhood. Fortunately, it never came to that. Michael was always the perfect, happy, piglin they had come to love since the day they met him. 

Days turned into months as they fell into a steady routine of caring for their son and living the peaceful lives they had sought after for so long. Sure, the world was still turning outside the boundaries of Snowchester, but little of what was going on involved them. As long as they were careful not to tread to closely to becoming a nation and offending the syndicate, their home would be safe. Or that was what Ranboo and Tubbo had come to believe, after becoming adjusted to such comfort and fantasies. 

Fantasies like that were bound to collapse eventually, and reality was never easy to come to terms with. 

The night their lives fell apart was similar to any other night in Snowchester. Snow was piling outside the mansion, one of Ranboo's favorite parts of Snowchester was the weather, and the family had already locked themselves inside for the night. Tubbo had taken to decorating most of the rooms in the house, and while it had taken a few months of work for every nook and cranny to be suited to his liking, the mansion finally felt like home. Michael had his own room, though it wasn't much more than a small bed and a chest with a few toys he occasionally played with. Michael's room was adjacent to where Tubbo and Ranboo slept, both of them felt it was necessary to keep Michael as close to them as possible, should he ever have a nightmare or need their protection. But Michael had never called for them at night before, he slept easily. 

Tubbo had already fallen asleep, his quiet snores a soothing rhythm to Ranboo. Ranboo was always awake the latest, but he had picked up habits to keep himself entertained while letting his family sleep. Tonight, he had picked up a book from the library to read through. It was relaxing to read something that wasn't a memory book, and a way for his mind to drift while knowing he wouldn't lose himself in the Enderwalk. A problem he still hadn't fixed, although its occurrences had become far less frequent. Ranboo was finally winding down, and he was getting ready to put the book down and finally go to sleep for the night. Before he could though, a small noise caught his attention. It sounded almost like a whine. 

Ranboo first attributed it to the noise of some passing animal outside, but it was awfully late and cold outside, he couldn't imagine there would be many animals wandering about. The whine reached him a second time, this time louder, and lasting longer. He set down the book on his nightstand, and as he did, he finally pinpointed what the sound was. It was Michael whining in his room. Fear instantly rushed through him, shock and a feeling of adrenaline he hadn't felt in a while. Ranboo's hands had started shaking as he reached over to grab Tubbo's shoulder, shaking him awake.

"Tubbo," he whispered, his gaze flicking around the room. "Tubbo, I think Michael's crying."

"Huh?" Tubbo slowly sat up, rubbing at his eyes as he looked towards Ranboo. 

Another whine reached them, and Ranboo's shoulders tensed up. "He's... whining, I think. Has he ever done this before?" Ranboo asked, desperate for Tubbo to be able to soothe his worries.

Tubbo shook his head, although he still felt lulled back to bed by his sleepiness. "No, I don't think I've ever heard him do that. Should we... go check on him?"

Ranboo got to his feet, nodding. "Could just be nightmares, but..." he trailed off. There were so many things it could be that were far worse than nightmares, too. 

Tubbo started to get up, pulling back the covers as he stumbled out of bed. As Tubbo crawled out of bed, Michael let out a wail from the neighboring room, and from there it escalated into the sobs of him crying. Every moment that passed, it seemed to be worse. 

That was the last straw for Ranboo. Tubbo was still slow moving, but Ranboo pulled open the bedroom door, swiftly making his way down the hallway and throwing open the door to Michael's room, flipping on the light to see what could have caused such consternation. By the time he got there, the crying had stopped.

The first thing Ranboo noticed was the partly open window, a chilling breeze fluttering through the room and snowflakes falling to the floorboards. His attention swept from the window to Michael's bed. His bed was empty. Nothing remained but ruffled covers and an indent on his pillow. Ranboo rushed into the room, his voice catching in his throat as he tore back the covers to see if Michael was playing some game of hide and seek, but he was certainly gone. Michael had vanished.

He headed to the window, wondering if Michael had fallen out, praying that his son was still nearby. But before he could get a good look at what was outside the window, something on the windowsill caught his eye. It was an envelope, the light paper threatening to fly away in the breeze from outside. He scooped it up, tearing it open as his mind flashed to the thoughts of what he would do if someone had taken his child, his family, away for him.

His hand trembled as he pulled out the paper. There wasn't much for him to read. All that had been left was on the center of the paper, hastily scribbled. A simple smiley face. 

Tubbo had just made it to the doorway of Michael's room, having heard the sound of ripping paper as he neared. "Ranboo, is everything okay?" There was no response. He entered, and the scene was much the same as when Ranboo had found it. The only differences were the bed that was practically torn apart, and the window that was now fully open, the cold air tearing through his thin pajamas. Michael was gone. And now, it seemed his husband was as well.


End file.
